Upping The Ante

7. Cultural Exchange

There are so many things wrong with this situation.

In my peripheral, humans are pointing fingers, whispering fearfully in response to my intrusion. At the dais to the front of the chamber, the impressively robed figure recovers from his shock and launches into what sounds like a truly impassioned diatribe, full of furious gestures. The man is practically screaming in his fervour, spittle flying from his lips as he exhorts the crowd.

The people are beginning to respond to him, turning to listen, the fear gradually dropping from their faces. Their expressions changing from unease to a rapt attention, and then to something I could say is religious ecstasy.

Meanwhile, all I can think about is that stupid statue.

How the heck did they get those features so perfect?

It isn’t even Ian McKellan dressed up as Gandalf, as he did for the Lord of the Rings movies. It’s just Sir Ian, albeit with something of a beard. The statue is standing, wizened eyes and lined face depicting both wisdom that comes with age and the warmth of a kind soul. His arms are outstretched, one reaching forward in invitation, the other held out, as if gesturing to the wider world.

He’s wearing robes, which clearly fits with the character, and upon said robes are hundreds of lines of text, carved so small and intricate, I can only imagine the effort that went into producing such a sculpture.

So weird.

I’m aware other people from my world have come into this world as monsters. Is it possible some were reborn as humans? Perhaps one of them also recognised the voice as that of Gandalf and decided to jokingly use his image to found some sort of religion.

I mean, this is clearly a church of some kind. They even have the stained-glass windows, through which shine the faint rays of something I’ve barely experienced in this world. Sunlight! The windows are incredible though, each depicting a different scene which I assume relates to their faith.

In one are miserable humans working and fighting. Next to that is an image of Gandalf descending from above, words pouring from the cloth of his robe to fall upon a joyous populace. In other images are depicted dark creatures—monsters, I presume—emerging from the ground where they are met in battle by powerful and sturdy humans, lines of text exploding from each battle like special effects.

Actually, looking closer, the words have been stitched into the robes of the priest also. Lines and lines of them in an impressive golden thread. I hadn’t noticed at first, but as the light shifts over his robe, the texts glitter.

They really go all out here in this church. Intricately carved statue, skilfully made stained glass, expensive robes and a high vaulted ceiling. The full treatment!

“What is wrong?” the queen asks.

I must have been still for longer than I thought. The queen’s become concerned.

“We’ve reached the surface, which is good news! We’re surrounded by humans though, which I’m not sure is ideal.”

“What is a human?” the queen asks.

Err…

“A living creature… that, isn’t a monster?”

“Hmmm,” the queen ponders. “Can we eat them?”

Now that is a question. Regardless of whether or not I feel comfortable eating people, it’s something I’m not sure I want to make a call on at the moment. Would they even give Biomass, seeing as they aren’t monsters? Do they give experience?

I wonder how much—

No! Those are living, breathing people, Anthony! There are women and children in this crowd. Don’t think about them as juicy sacks of experience.

Even if they think about you that way—

Wait.

Don’t pursue that thought.

Shaking my head, I refocus on the humans, trying to formulate a reply to the patient queen.

“I’m not sure if we can eat them or not. Wait down there with the family, I want to make sure we’re safe.”

Hesitant to make any large movements, I begin to slowly push myself out of the hole I’ve dug through the floor.

It just so happens my movement seems to correspond with the crescendo of the priest’s impassioned speech. The middle-aged looking gentleman has gone completely red in the face, struggling for breath as he continues to raise his volume somewhat beyond what I imagine is normal human capacity.

Face completely twisted with rapture, he raises his hands high to the heavens, apparently exhorting them for something.

My antennae nervously twitch, slowly creeping out of the hole, bringing my legs up one by one.

My movement doesn’t go completely without notice, unfortunately, and the priest once again fixes his burning gaze upon me. The crowd has become completely captured by his blazing rhetoric. I really wish I could understand the words coming out of his mouth. These people are seriously gripped by a potent religious ecstasy, as if the arrival of a monstrous ant from beneath the floor were the second coming of someone really important.

I’m not sure I’m ready for that sort of pressure!

As the priest begins to gesture at me, the crowd focuses their now uncomfortably hungry eyes upon me, all traces of fear gone. As I pull myself out, an older lady nearby begins to tear up and falls to her knees, hands clasped together in praise.

Uhh…

Are you misunderstanding something?

Out of nervous habit I start to clean my antennae, running my forelegs over them, much like a person would wipe sweat from their brow.

I’m really not sure how to take this!

My discomfort goes unnoticed by the congregation. The old lady’s started a trend, as several more people are overcome with emotion and sink to their knees. That seems to settle the matter, as within seconds the entire audience has collapsed to the floor with an audible thunk!

Fully emerged now, I stand in the centre of the church, rows of pews on either side as all along the walls, people are kneeling, hands clasped in prayer, facing me.

I mean… uh… err… Hi?

I don’t think this is what you guys think it is?

I really need to learn mental magic… Didn’t think I’d need it this soon!

The priest completed his sermon and a peace falls upon him, the tension gone from his body. He almost seems to be radiating an acceptance of heavens will as he too clasps his hands together.

He doesn’t kneel though. With great dignity, he turns to the altar standing before the statue. From behind the altar, he gathers what appears to be some kind of ceremonial mace, which he holds before himself, hands gripped around the haft.

Why a mace though?

Is it an incense stick or something? It does seem to be quite delicately made, too ornate to be a practical weapon. Curiously, I flick on my Mana Sense, getting no response from the item. Doesn’t seem to be enchanted or anything. Is he going to knight me with it? Tap me on the shoulder as a blessing?

I’m starting to get more and more worried.

I don’t want to offend these people or start a fight. Even if these people aren’t able to defeat us monstrous ants, they might be able to go and bring people who can! Those soldiers in the tunnels were no joke. I’m not sure I could match up to them, even now.

Just play it cool, Anthony, don’t do anything stupid.

The priest continues to hold his apparently ceremonial mace reverentially before him as he slowly begins to walk down the centre of the church toward me. With every step, someone from the crowd is overcome with the power of the moment and raises their hands to call out powerfully before sinking back into respectful prayer.

These outbursts become more frequent the closer the priest becomes, until he stands before me, the shouts of the congregation raining down upon him.

Uh… Hello?

I’ve grown large enough now that I’m basically looking this person in the midriff, which is a great change from when I was born. The hatchlings would only be looking him in the knee. It really is a ridiculous size for an ant, considering how much longer we are than tall. I would certainly be longer than this guy if he were to lie down.

I wonder how much I weigh these days?

Unknowing of my internal jitters, the priest brings his mace before him, face filled with rapture. He raises it in offering to the heavens as the crowd becomes even more frenzied.

Then he brings it crashing down on my head.

And I bite his arm off.